Not So Normal
by Zenin
Summary: So you've seen the Mary Sues. You've seen how people get easily sucked into Tortall. You've seen how they get nice clothing, nice lodgings, nice magic... You've seen 'em all, right? Wrong. I just got sucked into Tortall, but not by a nice portal. Ohh no.
1. The Beginning

**Not So…Normal…**_  
_by Zenin

Quickie Comment: _Yes, people, it's true. I am going to try a self-insertion fic. But this one goes way beyond all boundaries…all boundaries…_

I absently blew an unruly wisp of brown hair from my face, my arms crossed as I awaited my opponent's arrival. The crisp white uniform I had on rustled nicely as I shifted from foot to foot, examining my hands thoroughly. Okay, so they weren't all tanned and silky smooth like the other girls' were. They were blotchy and rough, the dry skin flaking slightly at the knuckles — generally making my scarred hands uglier than ever. It also didn't help that my hands happened to be long and thin. Pianist hands, people called them. The more honest individuals simply looked aghast. According to them, a small-boned girl like me should be interested in things like makeup or parties…_gossip_ would be an appropriate pastime, even. But _fighting_?

What an odd girl.

The dojo floor was wide and cool, the smooth grey surface lightly padded with nylon. All of the kicking bags had been sensibly lined against the wall to avoid any obstruction problems when the sparring started. My sensei paced back and forth among his students, checking to make sure that each of us had our mouthpieces.  Proud parents were chattering to each other as they seated themselves in the chairs that were placed on the outside of the dojo, a low wall separating over-enthusiastic spectators from the students.  My classmates were standing with their partners, already paired up, and giving the usual sidelong glances at each other.  It was amusing to note that in a few minutes, the shy façade would vanish and they would be pinning each other to the floor.  I picked out two girls from the crowd, gratefully noting that neither were my partner.  All they ever did was talk and giggle.  Karate was obviously something that they were doing simply for the extra credits.

Five long minutes passed.  I was getting tired of watching Amy and Sarah comparing their jewellery.  Seriously!  What type of idiot wears jewellery to a karate class?  And where was my blasted partner?

Finally, a tall, dark haired boy detached himself from a crowd of admirers and strutted to stand in front of me, his lips curled in a derisive sneer. "Zenin. It's nice to have you back. I mean, three months missing in action… You sure lost quite a bit of time." He toyed conspicuously with the end of his obi, smirking as my eyes fell upon the new stripe. 

Ah. The creep got promoted.

It took quite a bit of will power to convince myself _not_ to throttle the freaking jerk right where he stood. Instead, I smiled sweetly.

"Oh, I do hope you're wearing a cup this time, Michael. Tell me, did it _really_ hurt that much the last time we sparred, or was the writhing-on-the-floor-in-agony scene put on?"

His face took on a rather unhealthy shade of grey, but his grey eyes flashed dangerously. I gleefully noted that, indeed, he had not forgotten our last meeting. Demurely, I lowered my eyes…my signature tactic that usually threw people off guard. One minute, be delicate and scared. The next minute, beat the bloody hell out of them. 

He recognized it and stiffened slightly.

"You're my partner?" I asked hopefully, gazing down at my bare feet speculatively.

"Erm…yeah," he muttered, still toying with his belt. As if that new, shining stripe held inspiration for him. Moron.

Sensei called everyone to attention and gave us the usual speech on which target areas we were supposed to focus on, yadda, yadda, yadda. We bowed to each other, squarely meeting each other's eyes in the typical defiant salute. And then—

I can't exactly describe what happened next. One minute, I was preparing myself to pound my rival into the ground — and most likely I was going to be pounded some as well — but then…

You've heard of the Mary Sues, right? They're the namby-pamby girls that get sucked into their favourite books…_accidentally_. The next thing you know — surprise surprise. They're suddenly unrealistically beautiful, rich, and popular. Not to mention the sudden appearance of magic. Each Mary Sue _discovers_ that they have some special, unusual, unique talent that no one else has. And they go off and _save_ the kingdom in flairs of vain gloriousness, all the while making the handsome Prince fall in _love_ with them. 

Gag me.

Mary Sues are, pardon my language, utter crap. They invade a perfectly good story and mangle it so that no shred of decency remains. All I can say is, damn them.

One second later…I, too, was sucked into a portal.

__________________________

I found myself in a not-so-comfortable position, my karate uniform torn beyond recognition. No matter what all those other Mary Sues say, those portals are _not_ gentle. You see, not only had the portal manhandled me…it had also dumped me into a river. Which kind of tells me that the Portal Person who lives way up in the sky can read minds. It had not only taken me where I did not want to be…it had found one of my deepest fears.

My fear of drowning.

Oh, how I hate the thought. I'm such a bad swimmer…

Freezing water tumbled around me tumultuously. The black depths swirled into my nostrils as I frantically kicked to keep my face above the water. Against my will, my mouth opened in a huge gasp and the water rushed in to enter my lungs. Black spots entered my vision as I began to choke, now flailing shamelessly. My foot smashed against a jagged stone and I instinctively knew that it was either going to be broken or severely gashed. Right then, I could feel nothing. My body was numbing.

The swift undercurrent wrapped invitingly around my legs and tugged compellingly. I felt myself slip into unconsciousness, wondering briefly what heaven would look like. Maybe there would be a lot of ice cream. I like ice cream…

Annoyance briefly surfaced my mind as I felt vices grip my legs, yanking me unmercifully against the current. I was slung onto a hard surface, my head cracking firmly against a stone. 

This time I left all reality behind and blacked out.

_________________________________________________________________________

I cannot _believe_ I wrote this. Really. However, this will not be the normal, every day type of story. This, my friends, is a warped story; and I do hope you enjoy yourselves reading it as much as I am writing it. Anyways, this is just the prologue.

Prologue: short, introductory chapter.

I guess I won't be seeing many reviews for this anyway…judging by the amount of Mary Sue fics that totally exploded in the past week or so. Let's just say that this is no Mary Sue. If I can't torture my other characters properly, then let's humble me. *Laughs* Oh, I am so weird…

~Zenin

_© Copyright 2003 All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Zenin. _


	2. Disturbing the Peace

**Not So…Normal…**_  
_by Zenin

Being unconscious actually felt rather nice.  Everything was very floaty…but I couldn't feel my toes, and I happen to take great concern over toe sensitivity. There was a disturbing lack of ice cream as well, so that ruled out the "I'm in heaven" option.  Besides, heaven probably wouldn't feel anything like a log wedged between my vertebrae.

I finally began coming back to the wonderful world that we all know and love; firmly believing that my sparring partner had — for once — seriously decked me.  What else was I to think?  Everything else must've been a dream.  And anyway, the people who get sucked into portals end up in a much better condition.  As in, no broken bones.

I tentatively cracked one eye open, thoroughly expecting to see Michael standing over me with his usual smirk.  Instead, I found myself staring up into a canopy of lush green leaves, sunlight prickling through to assist my pounding headache.  Throwing an arm over my face, I groaned…then removed the arm with distaste.  I was sopping wet, muddy and freezing cold…not to mention the incredible pain I was in.  My entire left leg felt like it was on fire and I could feel the smallest trickle of wetness streaming down my foot.  Blood, most likely.

"Hey look, it's moving."

_It?  Hello, I'm a **girl**__._

Whoever had spoken suddenly found it necessary to poke me with what felt like a steel-toed boot.  "Hey…  Hey you…  Wake up."

I flailed my good leg out in a feeble attempt to kick…and missed, unsurprisingly.  At that moment, all I wanted was to go back into my floaty sleep.  Unfortunately, whoever was prodding me wasn't a quitter.

"Hey…"

Poke.  Poke.  Poke.  Poke…

Pokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepokepoke—

"Stoppit!"

The poking stopped abruptly as the voice cleared its throat importantly.  "We come in peace, O creature of the deep…"

A sharp exclamation of pain followed that remark.  I got the vision that his companion had just elbowed him in the ribs.  It was a very satisfying thought.  The second voice sighed with exasperation.

Finally, I forced both of my eyes open, staring bleakly at my surroundings…well, to be truthful; mostly I stared at the young man who knelt beside me.  Dark hair tossed in the wind, complimented by dark eyes that studied me; half curious, half bored.  Altogether, it was a very attractive young man.  Something clicked in my mind.  I suddenly scrambled upright, my eyes huge.

"_Faleron_?  Faleron of King's Reach?"

He looked confused; then quickly dismissed it with a flick of his wrist.  Clearing his throat, he began to speak.

"Ahem…You have the right to remain silent.  Anything you do or say can and will be used against you in the Tortallan Court of Law.  You have the right to an attorney…"

Here, Faleron paused as the other man — one featuring orangey-red hair — nudged him, whispering in his ear for a moment.  Faleron shrugged.

"Oh, quite right.  You have the right to an attorney _only_ if you have enough money.  Otherwise, you don't have that right.  Erm, let's see…  You have the right to —"

I could not believe what was happening.  Frowning, I could feel anger stirring within me as I shifted less weight of my bad leg.  "Now, wait just a minute!" I snapped.  "I haven't done anything!  Why am I being arrested?"

"You were disturbing the peace."

"_Disturbing the peace?_" I exploded.  "I fell into the freaking river!  By _accident_!  I don't even belong here in this cliché of a country!"

Mr. Fluffy Orange Hair cast a doubtful look my way, his eyes giving me a measuring once over.  Cocking his head, he raised one eyebrow dubiously.  He finished his survey with a rather bemused expression on his face and turned to Faleron, who was now inspecting his hair with a small hand mirror.  "Is it a boy or girl?" 

Faleron coolly pocketed the hand mirror.  "A cocotte, obviously."

And _that_ was when I dove on top of him, trying to throttle that poor excuse of a _homo sapien_.  Unfortunately, something was wrong.  I could barely make a proper fist, much less use the powerful trademark lung punch of mine.  Everything that I had once known about fighting had fled from my mind…leaving nothing there except for the occasional thought of "_Keep your damned toes up!_"

Faleron lifted me easily from on top of himself and set me aside, as if I were a naughty child.  He stood and glowered as he busily brushed bits of dirt off of his uniform, his companion chuckling humourlessly. 

"Mithros…  Mary's going to kill you for ruining that one.  Wasn't that the dress uniform she had made for Midwinter's Feast?"

"Yes," Faleron muttered, shooting a resentful glance towards me.  "Lalasa can probably fix it…with luck."

_He's worried about a bloody dress uniform?  I can't even make a proper fist!_

The two men walked over to the other side of the forest clearing, waving their hands expressively as they began debating on what to do with me. I glared at them, at their horses, at their medical supplies, at their food and back around again. Men. Horses. Medical supplies. Food. Horses. Medical supplies. Men. Food. Food. Men. Horses—

This isn't helping anything.

I decided to focus my mind on the lost martial arts skills. I curled my hand into something resembling a fist and leaned over to punch the solid oak beside me. My arm wound up as I released the blow with as much power as I could muster.

_CRACK!_

"DAMN!"

Other choice descriptive words accidentally slipped out as I immediately stuffed my hand into my mouth. The men stopped arguing with each other and now watched me with great interest. 

"What did she say?"

"I dunno.  Sounded like 'ducky frapper'— I forget the rest."

"How very odd."

I made a mental note to never keep my thumb on the inside ever again.  And as for escaping…well, for one, I'm injured.  The chances of defeating two sword swiping knights when hobbling around on a broken leg — now complete with matching broken thumb — is about one hundred to nil.  And let's not dwell on the fact that I can't fight in the first place.  The Portal Person who lives way up in the sky must have messed with my head.  Everything's gone.

Even if I did throw myself at them, it'd only give them more reason to lock me up.  Do you know what Faleron called me?

A _cocotte_.  In other words, they think that I'm a whore.

How bloody thick can they get?  Oh yes, I'm a mangled, half drowned girl that they themselves rescued from the river…it is _so_ obvious that I'm a girl of ill repute.

Before I could open my mouth to set things straight, something hard hit me on the back of my head.  I crumpled to the ground, vaguely aware that someone was slinging me over their shoulder.  A black haze covered my mind, and one last thought rattled around ceaselessly.

I'm fainting.  Again.  Can it get much worse?  Ooh…better not think that.  The Portal Person who lives way up in the sky will hear, and then who knows what could save me then.

Can it get much worse?

_____________________________________________________________________________

(Smiles)  I hope you enjoyed that chapter.  Leave a review if you deem this worthy enough.  Grazi!

~Zenin

_© Copyright 2003All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Zenin. _


	3. Jinxed

**Not So…Normal…**_  
_by Zenin

I awakened slowly.

My back was pressed against something warm and I was vaguely aware that I was on a horse.  Someone had their arm wound around my waist to keep me from toppling to the ground.  Despite that one kindness, I was still unbelievingly angry.  And depressed.  It was weird, how my emotions so quickly went from violent wrathfulness to despair.

_Despair_.  "Who are you?  Where are we going?"

A lovely red horse cantered up beside us.  Faleron looked at me, still looking wonderfully attractive despite the smudges on his tatty tunic.  He ran a hand through his tousled hair and smiled coldly at me.  "Corus.  To put you away."

"And fix his uniform," said an amused voice from behind me.  I turned my head painfully and managed to catch a glimpse of orangey hair.

_Anger_.  "To fix his blasted uniform?  His _uniform_?"  My voice rose an octave.  "Is that all you care about?  Your damned looks?"  

"That uniform was made for me by someone special," Faleron retorted hotly, a slight blush colouring his cheeks.  Mr. Fluffy Orange Hair snorted.  

_Despair_.  "Tell me, was it really necessary to hit me over the head?"

"For the sake of posterity, yes."

_Anger_.  "Do people ever have dreams about axe-murdering you?"

Small chuckle.  "I'm sure they do."

The rest of the journey was continued in silence…mostly because the next few phrases that had leapt from my mouth were a little strong, and dealt with just as strongly.  

In other words, I was gagged.  

We had travelled for about twenty miles or so when we finally reached our destination: a large, overly beautified city. The type of city that inspired most people to do impressive imitations of flycatchers. The type of city that made one want to gargle incoherently while pointing fingers and gaping at the awesome splendour. In fact, quite a few people were already doing that as we rode through the city gate.

The streets were thronged with mobbing Tortallan citizens. And when I say, "mobbing" I mean it literally. I mildly wondered if the Tortallan equivalent to Wal-Mart was having a liquidation sale or something. Whatever it was, it was big. People pressed on either side of our horses; humans big and small running gleefully through the crowd and pick-pocketing whatever they saw fit. Someone even tugged at the hem of my pants for a second, to which I promptly kicked out.

That was a huge mistake.  Waves of pain-laced nausea rolled over me.  Ripping the gag from my mouth, I leaned heavily over the side of the horse and — without second thought for the horse or rider — I vomited.

Mr. Fluffy Orange Hair cursed violently.  His voice faded away as I blacked out, feeling a slight sense of embarrassment coupled with a stronger sense of accomplishment.

_Serves you right._

_______________________________

I'll never forget what met my eyes when I finally came to.  I was in a cold stone cell that was bare of any furnishings…with the exception of the hard cot I was lying upon.  A barred window was slit into the wall, offering little light.  Three lighted candles threw the dimensions of the room into an eerily twisted perspective.  The one thing for which I could be grateful was the fact that I was not bound.  That, strangely enough, really helped me keep my cool.

That is, until I caught glimpse of the creepy cloaked thing that was leaning against the wall.  The hood of its cloak shadowed a face where piercing grey eyes stared intently at me, unblinking.  I groaned.

_Oh, I get it.  I'm going to be sacrificed by some weirdo cult.  And then they'll hang me upside down on the city's wall for disturbing the peace.  And after that, a whole bunch of people will come by and say, "Jeepers, looky at that there! That done be some pore fella who done disturbed the peace agin..."  Then Prince...erm..._King_ Jon will start issuing out all these laws about peace-disturbing people—___

My thoughts were interrupted just as I was picturing _King_ Jon running around, pointing at everyone, and saying with wild abandon, "Off with his head!  And her head!  And his!  And dammit, if I see another page wearing pink, fry 'em!"

As you could see, I was getting a bit carried away.

Anyways, the hooded person said nothing and simply glided out the door, slamming it shut as soon as he/she/it was safely out.  I admit, for the next few seconds that followed, I became slightly hysterical.

Okay, not slightly.  Quite hysterical.  I mean, let's do a little math here, 'kay? 

I get sucked into another world that I didn't even know existed.  While being so unbecomingly sucked into this place, some Portal Person who lives way up in the sky messes with my head and I forget just about every scrap of martial art skills I had ever learned.  Not to mention almost drowning in some river, mangling my leg, breaking my thumb, getting gagged, and then using up my reserve supply of stupidity trying to kick someone.  And just when you think it's bad enough, I black out (again) and end up reviving in some dank cell where this cannibalistic _thing_ rushes out the moment it sees that I'm awake; slamming the door and thus blowing out all the candles.

And now it's dark. 

Sum it all up and you get this: I'm jinxed.

Again, my thoughts were interrupted.  The door creaked open, admitting four people.  They shuffled through the doorway and promptly began tripping all over themselves in the dark.  Finally, an idea forced its way into their thick heads, just as someone (a girl, I think) opened their fat mouth.

"Gee, it's really dark in here."

As the valley girls are fond of saying: no duh.  Imbeciles.

Silvery fire flew from someone's fingertips, lighting all the candles in the room and restoring the cell to its former cheeriness.  I blinked, then glared at the group.  There was good old Faleron, looking much more content in a new tunic of deep burgundy.  Mr. Fluffy Orange Hair was also cleaned up, his tunic having been changed from the former yellow one to one of deep green. The hooded "it" thing was with them…and so was a blonde haired woman.  Her pale eyes surveyed me as one delicate hand rested on the hilt of a slim dagger thrust into the sash that wrapped around her slender waist.  Her gown was of the purest white accented by touches of pink.

I inwardly groaned.  Pink.  Not a good sign.

"Greetings," she whispered in a voice that, you had to admit, was wondrously beautiful.  It was low and soft; soothing and mesmerising at the same time.  Naturally, I hated it from the first melodious note.

I said nothing, not wanting to be rude.  No, I wanted to be even more rude, and I was trying to conjure a fitting response to her bland salutation.  Should I insult her king?  Her escort?  This gods-cursed country?  How about her dress?  Pink.  My gosh…

"You need healing."

It occurred to me that she might not even comprehend my sarcastic comments.  She was, quite frankly, a bit on the dull side.  And besides, my grandfather had always cautioned me to never offend someone holding a knife.  I sighed with frustration.  Life could really — to borrow the colloquialism — suck sometimes.

"I don't know, Mary," said Faleron slowly.  "She is, after all, under arrest.  You're not supposed to go around healing a _prisoner_, for Goddess' sake." 

The girl, Mary, stared at him vaguely.  Her pretty brows pinched together in a delicate frown.  "Oh, but I have healing magic."

"Mary Sue —"

The name struck me like a slap in the face.  _Mary Sue?_  That settles it.  There is an _evil_ Portal Person in the sky.

And he _really_ does not like me.

_______________________________________________________________________________

I must admit, this story is, by far, the easiest one I have ever written.  I mean, seriously.  It's so much fun.  Especially since it all began on a spur of the moment conversation with friends.  Imagine, if you _really_ did get sucked into Tortall.  Things wouldn't always be so peachy, would they?  There's a pre-determined fifty-fifty chance that you could get arrested, simply by wearing weird clothing.  Oh yes.  You'd be toast.  ^_^  

~Zenin

_© Copyright 2003 All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Zenin. _


	4. Cheerful or Insane

**Not So…Normal…**_  
_by Zenin

Some people like healing.  They say that it is soothing; that it calms your nerves and even makes you pleasantly sleepy afterwards.

I beg to differ.  It is _not_ soothing.  I mean, I could feel my bones snapping back in place, my tendons weaving together, and the one large bump on my head being forcefully pushed back into my skull.  A hammer might have felt better than this woman's healing tactics.

She opened her vivid blue eyes and smiled at her handiwork…or what was left of it.  I gripped the edges of the cot, gasping with pain and thinking of several fine descriptions of the healing process, healer, and generally anything to do with the nightmare I was living.

"That should make you feel better," she said absently.  Without bothering to glance at her companions, she continued speaking in her airy voice; all the while inspecting me as if I were some rat they were about to experiment on.  At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.  "Who is she?"

Faleron never took his eyes off her, a dreamy smile plastered on his attractive-and-yet-incredibly-shallow face.  "She's a trollop we found on the banks of the Vassa."

Glaring icily at him, I spat at his feet.  Mary Sue, however, seemed to find this information very interesting.  She turned to his gushingly.  

"You were in Scanra?  _Mithros_!"

Strangely enough, her expression had flickered when she had said that.  For one, brief moment, her face had transformed from vacant airhead, to a shrewd look of business.  She quickly reverted to the former, though, as Faleron puffed out his chest importantly.  "Yes, yes.  Scanra.  Nasty country.  Now that we have control of the border, we like to keep mischief-makers like that one," he gestured dismissively at me, "behind bars."

"That must be very dangerous," she murmured demurely, lowering her long eyelashes.  "You're so brave.  Both of you," she hurried to add as Mr. Fluffy Orange Hair opened his mouth to object.  His mouth shut with a click and he smiled at her wistfully.

"It's our duty to protect the crown," said Faleron affectedly.

I just about gagged with the superficial shallowness of it all.  Somehow, I had always thought that Faleron would be the perfect knight in shining armour.  Humorous, dedicated, deadly…not to mention the fascinatingly great looks.  However, the sickening scene that was playing before me just about clinched it: either Faleron was being hypnotized by Miss Tortall, or he truly was a sapped bastard.

Whatever it was, it wasn't helping my situation.  Sure, maybe I'm being a bit self-centred here, but I – am – the – prisoner.  I sat up, quickly pulling the remains of my karate gi around myself as I confronted the trio (fouro, if you count the silent, hooded guy).  "Look, I am not a harlot.  Or a cocotte.  Or a trollop.  I fell into the river — Vassa, was it? — and got pretty badly beaten up.  As for my clothing, well, it used to be a set of breeches and tunic, but the belt was torn away in the river and everything else was pretty much slashed to shreds.  Besides, trollops don't usually go around drenched and mangled, do they?"

They silently stared at me, their faces blank.  Anger finally took hold of me as I grabbed the nearest thing at hand — a pair of rusty manacles — and flung them at my captors.

"Why the _hell_ did you save me if you were only going to pin false accusations on me and lock me up?  Have you ever heard of justice?"  My voice fell to a snarl.  "No…I don't think you have."

A fair amount of silence followed my tirade.  I flopped back down, not even realizing that I no longer felt the pain of broken bones and bruises.  I was too busy telling myself to suck it up.  The last thing on my to-do list was Cry.  Nervous Breakdown came after Cry, and after that —

"Um…"

Oh look.  They _do_ have tongues after all.

I sat up and eyed Mr. Fluffy Orange Hair impatiently.  "Yes, O Captor of the Unfortunate?  I suppose you are now going to put me into hard labour and make me your slave.  Freshly squeezed grape juice, _milord_?  Or how 'bout a foot massage?  Or hey," I said brightly, "I could always spit in your face and force you to eat dirt…"

A smirk spread across his face.  "No thank you.  Perhaps tomorrow."  At my venomous glare, his smile widened.  "Actually, what I was going to say was this: we didn't save you."

Eh?  Maybe the darkness was affecting my hearing.  It sounded like — but that's not right.  _Somebody_ saved me.  I didn't exactly float serenely to shore like the Lady of Shallot.  "What do you mean, you didn't save me?  Who pulled me out of the river?"

The two knights shrugged their shoulders simultaneously.  "Dunno."

"_You don't know?_"

They ignored me as _dear_, sweet Mary Sue began talking again.  My gosh, I hate the sound of her voice…

"I suggest you put your mind on happier things," she said helpfully.  Her face shone with obliging goodwill as she began listing things that I could focus on instead.  "Like birdies, flowers, sunshine…you know, cheerful things.  They'll make you feel better."

"Yes.  Sure.  I'll focus on sunshine in this dank cell.  Right."

A tinge of impatience edged her words.  "You aren't being very cooperative."

"Well, you'll just have to forgive me," I snapped.  "Won't you?  Seeing as I have absolutely no reason as to why I should be enjoying myself.  For one, I find it rather difficult to be cheerful when all I have for clothing are the miserable rags I'm trying to cover myself with!"

Her eyes widened.  "Oh, is that all?  Why didn't you say so in the first place?"  She giggled and clapped her hands gleefully, eyes starry.  "I think I have something that will fit you!  Oh, and shoes that are to die for —"

"I'd rather not," I muttered dryly.

The men were busy opening and closing their mouths in protest.  "Mary Sue, she's a prisoner!  You can't —"

Mary tilted her head to one side, the shrewd business look coming on again as she wrapped a golden curl around her finger coyly.  "Can't what?"

"We are going to take her to the lower cell division.  She can't be going around dressing up and…and having _tea_ for Goddess' sake!" stated Faleron, watching the golden curl with great interest.

She gave him a calm stare.  "She wasn't caught in the act, was she?"

"Erm…no…"

"Then she can't be arrested.  All charges against this girl must be dropped."

What do you know, she does have a brain.  Heaven help us all.

"But…but Mary Sue…"

"Oh stop being such a stiff, Fal," she said with a girlish giggle.  The dumb look was back, and she waltzed around the cell like a bloody moron before dancing to my bedside and grasping my hands, pulling me to my feet.  "C'mon," she tittered excitedly.

I wrenched my hands away from her and glared distrustfully.  "Where?"

Mary rolled her eyes.  "You're going to get some decent clothing, okay?  Now, come on!"  With that said, she grabbed my hand and forcefully propelled me out the cell's door; the two knights and creepy thing staring at out backs in shock.

________________________________

The palace (yup, that was where we were) was a labyrinth of twisty passages.  I gave up trying to remember which way to turn after we bumped into a group of guards (who were rather impressed with my garb, the perverts).  Quite a few wolf whistles were received before Mary Sue (damn her to hell and back) remembered the right direction.  All I knew was that we had to climb a lot of stairs.  And I mean, a _lot_.  

Why she was taking the time to help me, I do not know.  Unless…unless there was a bit more to the girl than what met the eyes.

Which would kind of surprise me.  I mean, acting like a ditz can only go so far until you _become_ a ditz.

An entire hour passed before we finally reached Mary's rooms.  Three maids greeted us at the door, none of them giving me strange looks or anything.  They simply curtseyed — smiling — and split up to prepare a bath, fetch some appropriate clothing, and find some hair things.

I was dumbstruck.  Imagine it, a grubby wretch enters your home and what do you do?  Well, you wouldn't go so far as to offer the beggar a bloody _bath_.  Especially if you have no clue as to who the stranger is.  The kindness of this action was astronomical…which would explain why I didn't like it.  Now I _knew_ she had some plan for me.  

Mary Sue flopped down on her bed and buried herself with cushions, sighing luxuriously.  "I didn't sleep well last night," she muffled.

"Aw, isn't that just too bad?" I cooed.  "Did you try thinking of bunnies and sunshine?  That _always_ helps me."

One cushion lifted, and for a moment I thought I saw her _glare_ at me.  The cushion fell back before I could double check.  Now thoroughly bored, I decided to scrutinize her suite.

All three rooms were impossibly large and airy — the king of any country couldn't ask for better, I was sure.  The floors were paved with fine, sand-polished marble; thickly carpeted with plush velvet rugs.  The stone walls were panelled with carved cherry wood, each panel depicting a different scene: whether it be hunting parties or flying griffons.  There was even a detailed river, its gushing waters terrifyingly realistic.  Water roared in my ears as I stumbled backwards, rubbing my arms and quickly turning my attention to the stunning tapestry on the southern wall.

It was a brilliant, in-depth map of Tortall and the surrounding countries.  Using the best of colours and materials, every tiny city was perfectly replicated.  Even the countryside was faultlessly woven, almost three-dimensional in its perfection.  I could easily pick out the different cities and countries, each carefully labelled with minute stitching.  Mindelan, Trebond, Tirragen, Pirate's Swoop…  Strangely enough, I could not find a definable western border in Scanra.  The lines were oddly blurred —unevenly blurred, at that.  Even when I squinted my eyes, I couldn't find —

"Miss?"

I started and whirled around.  "_What?_"

The maid smiled kindly.  "Your bath is ready."

"Oh."  Swallowing hard, I nodded shortly.  "Okay.  Thanks."

The bathroom was amazing.  The bathtub itself might have passed for a Jacuzzi, with bubbles foaming to the surface in continuous swirls.  Scented soaps were displayed in cut glass dishes, fluffy towels folded neatly beside the soaps.  Several scrub brushes and washcloths lay in a wooden rack.  A floor to ceiling window spanned the entire western wall, the silken drapes flung back to display a stunning view of Corus, trees and rooftops mingling in the distance beyond the wall that surrounded the palace grounds.

The entire scene took my breath away…but not for long.  I barely waited for the maid to leave before slipping out of my gi and into the hot water.  Being clean had never, ever felt so good.  I allowed myself to soak for forty-five minutes, scrubbing my skin till it glowed.  I draped a towel around myself just as the second maid arrived, her arms full of colourful garments.  She deposited the clothing on the low settee and began picking through them, casting a critical eye on me.

"With your hair colouring…yes, and eyes…a warm colour would set those off best."

As if I'd care.  Really.  All I wanted was a pair of decent breeches and a shirt.  Oh yes…I'd also like a one-way ticket out of here.  That'd be great.

But before I could protest, I found myself in a yellow gown.  And you want to know the most surprising thing?  It was actually comfortable.  Maybe this was because it had been the plainest dress in the pile.  And it happened to be the only thing not made of silk.  It was made of soft wool and was, admittedly, a little large.  Actually, it dragged against the floor pretty badly.  But, since it wasn't pink and it wasn't all frilly and stuff, I was content.  It was when the third maid arrived and tried shoving these tight-fitting, shushy slippers on my feet that I totally rebelled.  I adamantly refused the slippers and opted to go barefoot…even though I was chased the length of the bathroom and sitting room in order to escape.

I was breathless when I skidded into Mary Sue's bedroom, not to mention annoyed.  Why was she doing this?  I mean, really?  Did she want me to do some tasks for her?  Pay calls to her suitors and hand out invitations to tea parties…maybe she wanted another maid.  If so, we have a problem.

"Look," I snapped.  "I don't know what you're —"

"Oh, you're looking so much better," she murmured musically, an overly-pleasant smile spreading across her face.  "Yellow suits you."  She gestured to a chair.  "Have a seat and let's chat."

I stayed where I stood, arms crossed.  "I'd rather stand, thank you."  Without giving her time to open her mouth, I continued.  "Why are you helping me?"

Mary Sue tapped a slender finger against her chin thoughtfully.  "Why am I helping you?  Because you looked like you needed help.  Isn't that enough?"

"Actually it's not.  I'm not that stupid, _Mary Sue_."

The entire vacant façade slowly vanished, a slow smile spreading across her lovely face.  "You and I have so much in common…"

"Out with it!"

At this, she looked slightly startled.  "Well, for one, we're both female."  She paused, hoping to gain suspense in the next few words.  "And we're both from America."

That statement was no surprise.  Maybe because her name was Mary Sue.  Do you think that that's enough of a hint?  How obvious can you get?

"Your point is —?"

"Well, I noticed you liked my map…"

Wow.  That was a smooth topic change.

Mary Sue stood gracefully and strode to the southern wall, gazing at the tapestry happily.  "You see that blurry line between Scanra and Tortall?"

"Yeah?" I said slowly, trying desperately to hold my temper in check.

"That tapestry was made by me.  I weaved some magic into it to make the borders change, the cities rise and fall and the landscape to move whenever such changes took place.  But I added a bit of a twist —"

"Get on with it, will you?"

She sent an annoyed glance to me and turned back to the tapestry. "You see, every time someone from my world — our world — enters this world, the lines of the country in which they land get more blurred. So far, Scanra has proved to be the one part of the atmosphere that has the most warp holes in it. Thus, Scanra has blurrier lines on my tapestry. This helps me to pinpoint exactly where a warp hole is, if I grid it correctly."

"And?"

She looked smug. "If people from our world can get into this world, then it should work vice versa. We can send people into America, or Europe, or Asia…wherever. And more people from our world can come into this world."

"_Why_ would they want to do that?" I asked, bored. 

"Our world is getting worn out. See, over here, even the medieval era is far more advanced than ours ever was. I mean, they _bathe_. And they are discovering more powerful magicks…even better, I have discovered that people from our world are more powerful as mages than any of their people could ever be. I'm sure you've noticed."

"Actually, I haven't. The only thing that happened was I lost six years of martial arts training and all my sense of direction."

"Really," Mary Sue stared at me for a while, tapping her finger against her chin again. "Hm. Maybe you'll take a while longer. Injuries are always setbacks. I'm sure once you're fully healed, you'll discover your true power."

I shook my head sceptically. "I'm still not quite sure about what you want."

She smiled, her golden hair forming a halo around her head and making her look angelic. "I want to get rid of the Tortallans. I want to get selected persons into Tortall to take over. We can repopulate this world and live longer lives than if we were living on Earth. This land is so much purer than our old one was —"

Ha. She's gone from ditz to deranged in less than one hour. "No."

Mary Sue's smile faded. "What?"

I snorted. "Got a hearing aid? I – don't – want – to – live – here. I like my old world just fine and I'll be damned if I see anyone like Prince Jon ruling my country. You're cracked."

The next thing I knew, I was out on the streets of Corus, wearing my ratty karate gi, and busily cursing a certain insane Mary Sue…what…_what_ did you say? 

_Save Tortall?_

You've go to be kidding. I'm no hero.

_______________________________________________________

Well.  It's certainly longer than the other chapters.  What do you think of it?  Good?  Bad?  Ever-so-slightly insane?  Anyways, leave your comments if you wish.  I certainly like to hear your thoughts on this one.

~Zenin

_© Copyright 2003 All rights reserved. Distribution of any kind is prohibited without the written consent of Zenin._


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